


hey, stranger.

by flowergyeom



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Implied Markson, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, no angst just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowergyeom/pseuds/flowergyeom
Summary: ➩ “you’re waiting in my dorm room for my roommate to come back from class and you end up helping me with my english homework.”or yugyeom and bambam fall in love.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ʕ ·ᴥ·ʔ hello! ʕ·ᴥ· ʔ
> 
> before you start reading, i wanted to let you know that the way yugbam look is the same as they did during lullaby era! also, because minghao from seventeen plays a big role in this, i've used his korean name 'myungho', as that is also what the seventeen members call him. 
> 
> that's all!
> 
> enjoy! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

✰

When Yugyeom entered his dorm room, he screamed blue murder.

On his roommate’s bed sat a boy who certainly wasn't its owner. In fact, Yugyeom had never even seen this guy before. 

He was directly in Yugyeom’s line of sight and he took quick notice of the white jumper and black pants he had on, the pair of thin-rimmed, round glasses that sat atop of his nose and the small bun that was formed with the length of his silver hair.

And he could confidently say that from all the movies he’d seen, Yugyeom did not remember burglars being _this_ good-looking. 

Looking around him for the closest thing to use as a weapon, he ended up holding onto an umbrella like a baseball bat but quickly came to the realisation neither he nor his roommate owned an umbrella and immediately dropped the object. 

The purpose of an umbrella, of course, is to shield someone from rain and Yugyeom noticed too late that the object was very much wet. The thing had been placed just outside their door, creating a wet spot in the hall, but because Yugyeom had now dropped it _in_ their room, it now left a big, wet spot in front of his feet.

“I have to say man, that wasn’t very smart,” the stranger commented, obviously having witnessed the entire scene. “I placed it outside for a reason.” 

His accent wasn’t hard to miss.

“I’m Bambam,” _Bambam_ continued, “I’m friends with Myungho. We agreed to meet but he said something came up at the last minute so he gave me the key and asked me to wait here.”

Yugyeom’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Was Myungho really out there giving the key to their room to people Yugyeom didn’t know? The Korean boy had seen no problem in rooming with a foreigner, but he hadn’t expected the Chinese boy to randomly give their room key to others. Was that normal in China? Was this guy also Chinese?”

Yugyeom swallowed. “Eh—Hi,” he said in Chinese.

Bambam chuckled. “Though that’s nice of you, I’m not Chinese.”

“Oh.” Well. That was awkward. “Sorry. It’s just that—eh—you have a bit of an—”

“Accent?” Bambam filled in for him, still sitting on Myungho’s bed like he owned the place, all relaxed and casual with his back against the pillows. “Yeah, I’m from Thailand.”

“Oh,” Yugyeom said again. He leaped across the umbrella and its newly created wet spot, then sat down on his own bed. “So … How long did Myungho say it was gonna take?”

Bambam looked from his phone screen to his watch. “Like, half an hour? I wouldn’t normally take up offers to wait in someone’s dorm room but my apartment is quite far from here.”

Oh, so he lived in an apartment. Yugyeom was oddly jealous. Though he enjoyed Myungho’s company, Yugyeom was messy and unorganized while Myungho was the complete opposite. Having to deal with the Chinese boy’s constant nagging was a bit like rooming with his mom. 

“And, well, Myungho said you’d be gone,” Bambam added, eyes back on his phone screen. 

And he would have been had his lecture not gotten cancelled last minute. Normally, he’d be ecstatic, but it’d been raining tremendously and he just knew that if his lecture hadn’t gotten cancelled and he was forced to sit in a classroom two hours longer, he wouldn’t have had to walk home in the pouring rain. 

Speaking of, he was kind of wet.

Yugyeom pursed his lips, debating on what to do. “Are you gonna steal my stuff if I take a shower?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “No, man,” he said in English. “I’ve been here this whole time and didn’t steal a thing.” 

Yugyeom raised his hands in defense. “Just checking.”

He got up from the bed then, cursing himself for creating another wet spot, and plucked a new, dry outfit from his dresser.

He looked at Bambam then, who looked just as unbothered as he did when Yugyeom came in. Fuck he was really cute. 

Yugyeom coughed into his hands, and when he got Bambam’s attention, he pointed towards the bathroom. “I’ll just be—yeah.”

Bambam gave him a thumbs-up, eyes still on the screen. Yugyeom felt like he was babysitting some kind of 12-year-old. 

Once in the bathroom, he locked the door and pressed his back to it. He fumbled for his phone and opened the KakaoTalk app. 

**To: xuminghao_o**

_Care to explain why there’s a hot stranger in our room !!!!!!!_

**From: xuminghao_o**

_Aren’t you in class?_

**To: xuminghao_o**

_Got cancelled but that’s beside the point. Why is there a guy I have never seen in my life in our room???_

Yugyeom prided himself on being a fast typer and therefore found texting Myungho one of the most dreadful things in life. The guy texted like an 80-year-old with a huge thumb. 

**From: xuminghao_o**

_I told you about this club I joined recently, right? It’s for foreigners. There’s a meeting later today and I told him we’d meet up before the meeting but I got caught up in an assignment I need to complete ASAP. Working on it with Mingyu right now. I’ll pick Bambam up when I’m done, should be soon._

Yugyeom stared at the message. Because of its length and Myungho’s inability to type fast, he had been staring at the little ‘is typing’ bubble for about five minutes.

**From: xuminghao_o**

_You’ll probably like him. He’s your kind of weird._

Yugyeom scoffed at the message. 

**To: xuminghao_o**

_What’s that supposed to mean!?_

After a few minutes of no reply, waiting for one seemed hopeless. Besides, if he wanted Myungho to finish his assignment as soon as possible he should probably stop texting him. Next to that, he wasn’t too keen on having a stranger in his room unsupervised for too long, no matter how cute they were. 

How on earth had he never seen Bambam before when he looked like _that_? Where did Myungho hide him all this time? Sure, Yugyeom knew Myungho had friends who were foreigners but Yugyeom only ever saw him with Mingyu who was very much Korean.

Maybe he should really pay more attention to the people Myungho hung out with. 

He took a quick shower, got dressed even quicker and darted out of the bathroom to see Bambam in the exact position Yugyeom had left him. 

“I texted Myungho,” Yugyeom said as he picked up his sheets and flipped them around. Did this help dry the wet spot? No. Would his ass stay dry now? Yes. Yugyeom considered it a win. “He confirmed your story.”

Bambam raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was lying?”

Yugyeom rubbed his hair with the towel one last time before throwing it on the floor next to his feet. He’d take care of that later. “I didn’t know what to think,” he answered truthfully. “Myungho said you’re in a foreigners club or something?”

The boy then shifted, pocketed his phone and sat on the edge of the bed. Because Yugyeom sat on the edge of his own bed and the beds faced each other, he was looking directly at the other.

Bambam played with the rings on his fingers as he said, “Yeah. It’s to share experiences of living in Korea and, well, to improve our Korean, too.”

Yugyeom cocked his head. “Your Korean seems fine, though?”

“You did say I have an accent,” Bambam pointed out with a grin.

Now Yugyeom felt bad for saying that. Was that an insecurity he had? Probably, right? Yugyeom definitely wouldn’t be pleased if someone pointed out his accent when speaking English despite it being very, very prominent. 

“I meant, like, grammar and stuff,” Yugyeom clarified sheepishly. “What languages do you speak?”

The guy held out his hand to count on his fingers. “Thai, obviously. English and Korean near-fluently, I guess. I understand some Japanese and Chinese, too, but not much.”

Yugyeom gaped at him, finding himself jealous once more. He had always liked the idea of speaking multiple languages but never found himself able to really learn a new one. 

“What about you?”

At this, Yugyeom chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh—just Korean. I take this English class next to my major but my grades have been … pretty abysmal, so to say.”

Bambam slightly tilted his head. “What does abysmal mean?”

“Oh,” Yugyeom said, “like, extremely bad.”

“Ahh,” Bambam said with a nod. “What are you struggling with?”

Yugyeom grimaced at the simple thought of it. To any of his Korean friends, he would have never admitted any of this. In fact, he prided himself on being quite a bit better at English than Youngjae. Then again, that didn’t mean much. But he felt like he could talk about this with Bambam as the guy must have felt the same learning Korean. 

“A better question would have been what I’m not struggling with, honestly.”

“Okay,” said Bambam with a grin. “What _aren’t_ you struggling with?”

Yugyeom had not expected his sort-of-joke to be taken seriously. He looked at his feet as he said, “Um—Well, I can introduce myself, I guess? But can’t talk about my day or what I did yesterday or anything like that.”

“Ahh,” said Bambam again. “And you should be able to? I don’t know what level that English class is at …”

Yugyeom grimaced once more. He was about half a year into the class and was definitely supposed to be able to say more than he could. The fact his classmates were much more advanced than he was certainly didn’t help motivate him. 

“Do you have any homework for that class to do? I’m kinda bored so I can help you if you want?” Bambam offered, catching Yugyeom by surprise. Not that he didn’t think Bambam was nice, in fact, from that very short conversation they just shared he found himself quite interested in the other. 

Yugyeom reached for his bag, which was still very wet, and pulled out his laptop case.

While he’d been fumbling with the wet object, Bambam had plopped down next to him on the bed, knees drawn to his chest as he watched Yugyeom enter the password to his laptop.

In the position the other was in, he looked very small. Quite adorably so. 

The color of his hair stood out beautifully against his tan skin and Yugyeom almost hadn’t noticed the coloured contacts he wore. 

But up close like this, he definitely noticed. Just like the little mole below left eye.

“Eh—earth to Yugyeom?”

The dancer quickly looked back at his laptop, cheeks hot. _Obviously he was gonna notice you were staring, you dumbass_. 

Then Yugyeom’s mind suddenly backtracked. “Wait, you know my name?”

“Of course,” Bambam said with a laugh. “Myungho doesn’t shut up about you.”

That could not be good.

Yugyeom grinned awkwardly. “Only good things I hope.”

“Not really, no,” Bambam said easily, “in fact, I think I’ve only ever heard him complain about you.”

Wow. Wonderful. Just great. 

If someone found a dead body that resembled Seo Myungho, it wasn’t Yugyeom.

Once he found the earliest assignment due, he planned to hand over laptop, but instead Bambam simply looked over Yugyeom’s shoulder. 

At first, this was fine. Absolutely fine. No problem whatsoever. But once Yugyeom felt small little exhales near his ear, he swallowed hard. 

“Use the present simple, it says here,” Bambam said, and Yugyeom felt the Thai boy’s body move as he reached forward to point at the sentence. Once his finger hovered under the sentence, he looked sideways at Yugyeom. “Do you know what that is?”

Yugyeom willed himself not to turn his head. He would either slam his face right into Bambam’s or there would be an inch of space between their noses and Yugyeom wasn’t sure how to deal with either of those options. 

Yugyeom pursed his lips as he thought of the answer. “Isn’t that like present tense or something?” 

“Yeah,” Bambam said. “A present tense form. Do you know what it looks like? Can you think of a sentence using the present simple?” The tone he used was one of a teacher, calm and encouraging.

Yugyeom tried looking for an answer somewhere deep in his brain, genuinely trying very hard to find one, but was left with absolutely nothing. That didn’t mean much, because if Bambam had asked him to multiple 2 by 4 he still would not have been able to give a correct answer. Bambam’s breath fanning his neck and his eyes boring into the side of his face was enough to leave his mind completely blank. 

But because it was blank, he completely forgot that he wasn’t supposed to turn his head towards the other.

Thankfully, no face-slamming occurred. As cheesy as it sounded, though he didn’t consider himself a very great student, he had absolutely no issue studying Bambam’s features. 

Bambam was absolutely stunning no matter how far away from him you were sitting.

“Why the hell is our floor wet?” 

At the sudden sound of Myungho’s voice, Yugyeom was close to falling off the bed and nearly dislocated Bambam’s jaw with how quick he moved away from him, not wanting Myungho to ask questions about their proximity. 

Yugyeom craned his neck to see the wet spot. “Oh, I’ll clean it up soon,” he said dismissively. 

Myungho looked unimpressed. “And what about that wet towel over there?”

Yugyeom grimaced. “I’ll _also_ clean that up soon.”

“Right,” Myungho said slowly, not believing a word. Then, before Yugyeom’s own bewildered eyes, he did a full 180 by straightening up and flashing Bambam a smile. “Sorry for making you wait, Bam. Good to go?”

“Yep,” Bambam said as he pushed himself off the bed.

Yugyeom was still kind of reeling from the ordeal. Not that there really was an ordeal, but the only signals his mind was sending him were _Bambam’s so handsome_ and _Bambam has really nice legs_. 

Then the sound of the literal devil echoed in the room; Myungho’s stupid alarm which also functioned as his ringtone. The number of times he’d woken up because of that screeching noise when he didn’t even have to get up yet was beyond his ability to count. 

“It’s Jun-hyung,” Myungho said as he brought the phone to his ear. A string of Chinese words followed and Yugyeom immediately noticed the tone in his voice changed to an affectionate one. Yugyeom’s hardly ever heard him talk like that. 

Most likely because he never talked to Yugyeom like that. 

Myungho then pressed the phone to his shoulder, made eye-contact with Bambam and whispered, “I’ll be in the hall.”

“‘Kay,” came Bambam’s simple reply.

With Yugyeom sitting on the bed, he had a clear view of the boy as he started putting his shoes back on. 

The bun looked cute from this angle. 

But then the bun disappeared as Bambam lifted his head and looked into Yugyeom’s eyes. “Sorry I wasn’t able to help much, but if you need help in the future, I’m down.”

“Yeah!” Then, noticing how eager that sounded, he cleared his throat. “I mean, cool. Yeah, cool. That’d be awesome.”

Bambam let out a small laugh and held up a peace sign. “See you later,” he said in English.

Yugyeom laughed, then repeated the phrase.

✰

For some odd reason, he saw Bambam everywhere now. He didn’t understand how in the hell that worked, considering he’d never seen him before and he definitely would’ve noticed that mop of silver hair, but he sure wasn’t complaining.

Next to that, it seemed everyone knew Bambam. He’d expected Ten to say he knew Bambam if asked, but he hadn’t expected every other person in the room to also say they were familiar with him. 

When Myungho came back from the Foreigners Club meeting that night, he rolled his eyes at Yugyeom’s curious eyes. “I know what you’re gonna ask.”

Yugyeom folded his arms over his chest, confident Myungho wasn’t going to guess. “Then what am I gonna ask?”

“For Bambam’s contact info.” 

Yugyeom should never be confident again. 

He started spluttering. “Wha—No! I wasn't gonna ask that.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Myungho answered as he put his bag on his bed and started unpacking. He looked over his shoulder, “Then what _were_ you gonna ask?”

Yugyeom felt caught. “I wanted to—eh—wanted to ask how the meeting went! Yeah, how the meeting went.” He said with a nod. “So, how’d it go?”

“Fine,” Myungho answered. “We discussed some things, planned some events—“

Yugyeom’s ears perked up at that. “Events?”

“Like going bowling or eating meat togeth—”

“You’re gonna go eat meat!?” Yugyeom exclaimed, hands above his head. “Can I join?”

At that, his roommate looked as Yugyeom asked for his liver. “ _No_.”

“Wha—why not?” Yugyeom asked disappointedly, almost pouting. 

Myungho gave him a confused look. “What do you mean ‘why not’? It’s called the Foreigners Club for a reason.”

Yugyeom gave him a look that read _so?_

“You can’t seriously be this daft,” Myungho retorted, but Yugyeom just stared back at him. “You’re not a foreigner, Yugyeom.”

Dang. He had a point.

Yugyeom bit his lip in thought. Bambam said the club was created to share experiences and to improve their Korean, so surely they must need a Korean native to help correct their mistakes? Right?

“We already have one,” Myungho replied as Yugyeom asked about it. 

Yugyeom instantly deflated. “Really? Who?” 

“Park Jinyoung.”

“Jinyoung-hyung!?” Yugyeom yelled out. 

What kind of betrayal was this? How in the hell did Jinyoung know Bambam? The Thai boy did not seem like someone Jinyoung would befriend, then again, Jinyoung would probably not have befriended Yugyeom had their moms not been friends. 

But then Yugyeom saw a possible connection between the two and he asked who created the group.

“Wang Jackson.”

Ah. Yep. There it was. Jackson was a very close friend of Jinyoung, so naturally the creator of the group would want a friend to be their Token Grammar Police. To add to that, Jinyoung was a literature student whose Korean was a lot better than Yugyeom’s anyway. 

“But I take it you liked Bambam?” Myungho asked with a smirk, changing from his day clothes into his pajamas. “It’s hard not to, really.”

Yugyeom threw himself down on his bed, head hitting the pillows. “He’s pretty—”

Myungho scoffed.

“Pretty _charismatic_ ,” Yugyeom emphasised, rolling his eyes. “And, what, can I not say he’s pretty?”

“You can, but I have eyes. Everyone has eyes,” Myungho said, taking out his contacts in front of the mirror. “His looks are all people talk about, really.”

That sent a pang of guilt down his spine. Though he had enjoyed his short time conversing with Bambam, he had to admit to thinking about how good-looking the Thai boy was about 75% of the conversation. 

“Have you known him long?”

“Since last year,” Myungho said after some thinking. 

_Last year!?_

But thinking about it, Myungho and him only started rooming together this year and weren’t aware of each other’s existence prior to that. Which he still found pretty weird as he knew Mingyu very well, who knew Myungho very well, yet Yugyeom only met Myungho when he entered his new dorm room.

He should really start paying more attention to his friends’ friends. Actually, he should really start paying more attention in general. Just last month he found out Jinyoung had been dating Im Jaebeom for the past two years and he had no idea.

Myungho sighed. “Yugyeom-ah, I think you think we spend a lot more time together than we actually do.”

Yugyeom rose from his bed. “You know what,” he said, “you are absolutely right. We should hang out more.”

Myungho nodded, continuing his very particular skin-care routine. 

“Sweet,” Yugyeom said happily. "I’m free this weekend, you?”

Myungho looked at Yugyeom through the mirror with a dead-panned look. “We have a midterm next week.”

“We have a midterm!?”

✰

He did, in fact, have a midterm. One that he had to study extremely hard for in order to get a decent grade with the short amount of time he had.

He was, for a lack of a better word, pretty damn dead when he exited the exam hall and made his way over to the closest coffee stand. He did not drink coffee, definitely not, but after batting his eyelashes at the employee during his first year of freshman year they decided to add iced chocolate to the menu options. 

And it’d been a hit. 

One of Yugyeom’s biggest accomplishments if he were to say so himself.

It was cold out, colder than he’d expected, so he hugged his jacket closer to his chest as he stood in line. He wiggled his feet every few seconds to avoid his toes from freezing over and he must have looked pretty stupid but at least he’d be stupid with functioning toes.

“Do your feet hurt?” 

Yugyeom spun around then, body nearly colliding into what was unmistakenly Bambam’s.

The Thai boy clearly had a better grasp of the weather, wearing a coat much bigger than Yugyeom and were those UGGs on his feet? Lucky bastard. 

“Oh, no, they don’t hurt.” He looked down at his converse chucks, they definitely wouldn’t do this winter. “They’re freezing. Just trying to keep the blood flowing.”

“Ahh,” Bambam said. He then, too, wiggled his foot. “Good method.”

“Right?” Yugyeom said with a laugh, wiggling their feet together. “How—uh—how’ve you been?”

“Pretty good!” Bambam said, chipper. “Just got out of an exam and I think it went alright, you?”

“Me, too, but I don’t feel too great about it,” Yugyeom said with a grimace. 

“Ah, shit, man,” Bambam said in English. “Was it an English exam?”

“Not even,” Yugyeom said, taking a step forward in line. “Though that’s coming up, too.” He scratched his head, trying to remember the date but he was left finding nothing. “At least, I _think_ it’s coming up.”

Bambam laughed at that. “What’s your major?” 

“Dance,” Yugyeom said with a smile. “You?”

“Foreign language and culture,” Bambam said, equally smiley.

“Woah,” Yugyeom exclaimed, impressed. “Isn’t that hard—”

“Hey, kid, are you gonna order or what?” 

Yugyeom definitely hadn’t noticed everyone else in line had already gotten their order and the employee was giving him an annoying look. Yugyeom gave Bambam an awkward grin before turning his head to face said employee. 

“An iced choco, please.” As the words left him, an idea popped into his head. He bit his lip as he looked over his shoulder. “What—uh—what do you drink?”

Bambam shook his head hurriedly. “Oh, you don’t have to pay for me—”

“I want to,” Yugyeom said with a smile. He hoped Bambam thought the pink in his cheeks was formed by the cold. “What would you like?”

Bambam’s own cheeks turned a shade pinker, too. He laughed behind his hand as he said, “I always get the sweetest shit they have.”

Yugyeom grinned, then told the employee. “An iced choco and the sweetest shit you have, please.”

Within an instant, the dancer received a smack to his arm and the silver-haired boy’s laugh filled his ears once more.

Soon enough, his order of an iced choco and whatever cavity-creating garbage Bambam wanted was pushed into his hands. Yugyeom carefully handed Bambam’s his and tried very hard not to blush at the way their fingers touched. 

“Why did you ask for a cold drink?” Bambam asked, sipping on his very much hot drink. 

Yugyeom shrugged. He preferred it cold, but realized it must be a strange move when his fingers were about to fall off and a hot drink could have maybe salvaged them from their death. “Sacrifices.” 

Bambam laughed, mouth open and revealing a beautiful set of white teeth. Yugyeom had no clue how they could possibly stay that white if this was the shit he drank.

“Do you want to go sit somewhere?” Yugyeom asked, the cold weather starting to seep inside his bones. A little cloud of air was formed as he spoke. “And—uh—preferably inside.”

Bambam made a face of regret. “I have to be somewhere soon.” He raised his arm to check his watch, then looked up at Yugyeom with a small smile. “Actually, nevermind. I have time. Where do you wanna go?”

Yugyeom tried his best to not let his excitement show too much. “Maybe we can just chill in the cafeteria for a while?”

Bambam agreed.

Yugyeom learned quite a few things about the boy that day, like how he was the same age as he was, moved to Korea to study and four cats lived in his apartment. 

Yugyeom cursed his cat allergy once more. Bambam playing with cats was probably quite the sight. He wasn’t unfamiliar with pets, though. His brother adopted a dog not too long ago and Yugyeom visited whenever he could. 

“How did you end up joining the Foreigners Club?” Yugyeom then asked, trying to extend the enjoyment of his drink as long as he could, taking very small sips at a time. 

Bambam swallowed his own sip before he spoke. “I met—wait do you know Jackson-hyung?”

Oh, he definitely knew Wang Jackson.

Because Yugyeom and Jinyoung’s moms were friends, they were always invited to each other’s birthday celebrations. And ever since Jinyoung met Jackson, he was glued to Jinyoung’s side and thus was present at those, too. 

Yugyeom wasn’t the biggest fan of the Park family’s birthday parties; it was just a Big Bully Yugyeom fest. He’d hoped the addition of Jackson would put a stop to it, but the Chinese boy seemed to enjoy teasing the dancer to no end. 

“We were talking about how Korean’s pretty hard and how most of our friends can’t really relate as they’re Korean themselves,” Bambam explained. Yugyeom could relate. He was never able to complain about English to Jinyoung as the older spoke it well. “So he thought, hey, why not start a club for foreigners at our uni so we can complain about Korean and hang out.” 

“Woah. That sounds awesome,” Yugyeom said, biting on his straw. “How many people are in it?”

Bambam’s eyes widened a little, clearly having no idea of the amount. “Man, I’m not sure,” he said in English. “But, a lot. There’re quite a bit of Thai students actually.”

Yugyeom nodded. “That must be nice.”

“It is,” Bambam agreed, a big smile on his face. “The club helps not only improve my Korean but also multiple other languages, so that’s awesome.” Then Bambam fell into a story of how he acquired each of his languages, and Yugyeom found himself resting his chin on his hand as he listened. 

He discovered he really liked Bambam’s voice and considered the accent and the added English words here and there an endearing touch to Bambam’s overall charm. He talked with huge amounts of enthusiasm, lots of sheepish laughter and many different jokes and Yugyeom enjoyed it. 

“We have an English Club too, you know?” Bambam said, catching Yugyeom off guard. 

“English Club?”

“Well, it’s not really a club but I tutor English with my hyung Mark every week,” Bambam explained. “We also go out to eat sometimes. It’s fun. Instead of complaining about Korean, everyone complains about English there. Maybe you’d want to join?”

Though the idea of hearing Bambam’s Teacher Voice again sounded incredibly enticing, he had about 5000 won to his name, and considering he just paid for both his and Bambam’s drink, make that 200. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Bambam said with a dismissive hand. “You can just join.”

A blush crept on his cheeks as he shook his head. “No, no, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“You paid for my coffee,” Bambam said, shaking his cup as a reminder. 

Yugyeom smiled. “I’ll make sure to buy you coffee more often then, as payment.”

Bambam smiled back, then reached forward to cling their cups together. “Sounds like a deal,” he said in English.

Though Yugyeom had no idea what he just said, he found himself agreeing.

✰

Those tutoring sessions were a lot less fun than Yugyeom had expected as a lot more studying went on than he’d anticipated. All students sat around a big, round table and he was asked to bring his own materials, do homework assignments and when he didn’t understand something, he was supposed to raise his hand.

But worst of all, he was forced to ask all his questions in English.

Yugyeom felt like he was living an actual nightmare had it not been for Bambam walking around the table, answering each question with patience, advanced knowledge and that goddamn teacher voice Yugyeom liked so much. 

The dancer was faced with an internal battle: not ask questions at all so the other students would think he was pretty good at English or ask Bambam tons of questions to keep him close. 

He chose the latter. He knew not one face between the other students so it wasn’t like he was actively embarrassed. And, besides, Bambam already knew he was bad at it so he truly didn’t have anything to lose.

So, for what felt like the 8th time in the past five minutes, Yugyeom rose his hand.

The problem with this method, however, was that there were two tutors, Bambam and Mark. Because of this, Yugyeom had to make sure to raise his hand when Mark was busy helping another student so Bambam could stride over instead.

Not that Yugyeom had any problem with Mark, not at all, but he just wasn’t Bambam. 

It’d been a few weeks since he first met Bambam, and with that, a few cups of that sweet stuff, and Yugyeom could confidently say he was definitely experiencing a Big Gay Freak Out.

Myungho rolled his eyes. “Just ask him out.”

Yugyeom groaned as he paced around their room. “I feel like it’s too late for that now.”

Myungho sighed. “Why’s that?”

Yugyeom pulled at his own hair. His crush grew daily but he felt like he pushed himself into the friend-zone by not making a move earlier. “It just—it just _is_.”

“I don’t think so,” Myungho said, running a comb through his hair. “And considering I’m the one in a relationship between the two of us, perhaps that’s a sign to listen to me.”

Yugyeom froze, gaping at his roommate. “You’re in a relationship!?” 

Myungho looked incredibly confused, then threw his comb in Yugyeom’s direction. “Yah! I have been since last year!”

Yugyeom did not manage to dodge that comb. 

What he also didn’t manage to dodge was the reminder that he clearly hadn’t improved much on the Paying More Attention goal. 

“Who?”

“What do you mean ‘who’? Jun-hyung obviously,” Myungho said with a roll of his eyes. 

Yugyeom’s eyes widened. 

“Wait,” Myungho said, still very confused. “Why do you act so surprised? You’ve literally seen us kiss.”

Actually, Yugyeom had pushed that from his brain. 

He’d seen it completely involuntarily and it was mostly his fault, but in his defense, Myungho could have still let him know he was having someone over even if Yugyeom was supposed to be in class. 

His class wasn’t cancelled or anything but he just really wasn’t feeling it that day and decided to head back to his room to sleep off the pain that had formed around his temples. 

But the pain increased tenfold when he opened the door to see two people sitting behind Myungho’s desk instead of one. 

“Oh.” Yugyeom grinned awkwardly at the door. “Hello.”

The guy who was not Myungho raised a hand and offered a small wave. “Hi.”

Myungho put the guy’s hand down grumpily. “Shouldn’t you be in class?” his roommate then said, glaring at Yugyeom for reasons the dancer hadn’t understood at the time.

Turned out, he had totally love-blocked the dude. 

“Got a headache,” Yugyeom groaned, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket. 

“ _You’re_ a headache,” Myungho mumbled under his breath, earning a small shove from the guy next to him. 

Taking a closer look, Yugyeom noticed they were _sharing_ the chair. Better said, the other guy sat about halfway on Myungho’s lap with an arm around his back. 

“Wait,” Myungho said as Yugyeom started taking off his shoes. “You’re gonna stay here?”

Yugyeom raised an eyebrow. “This is my room, no?” He took a step back, checking the room number. There was obviously no use for that as his key worked and all his stuff was right in front of his nose. This was very clearly his room. 

Myungho let out a sigh and Yugyeom watched as he carefully pushed the guy off his lap and handed him the laptop they’d been peering at. 

“I’m Jun by the way,” the guy told Yugyeom as Myungho pushed him towards the door. 

Yugyeom pointed to himself. “Yugyeom.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that,” _Jun_ said with a laugh. Myungho instantly smacked him for that, saying something to him in Chinese that made Jun laugh even more. 

His roommate handed Jun his shoes and the smile Jun gave him was one of pure affection. Yugyeom even watched as the shorter boy helped him put his jacket back on.

And then, just before he was about to leave, Jun leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Myungho’s cheek.

Thinking about it now, Yugyeom should have definitely known they were in a relationship. 

“Do you have a question?” 

Yugyeom nearly fell off the chair at the sound of Bambam’s voice and held onto the edge of the table for dear life. 

Bambam started laughing. “Jesus. How badly were you zoned-out?” 

Yugyeom pushed himself back on the chair with the use of the table, ignoring the looks the other students in the English Club Not Really A Club sent him. “Pretty badly, I guess. Sorry.”

“No worries,” Bambam said, folding his arms on the tabletop and crouching down so he was at eye-level with Yugyeom. “Did you have a question, though?”

He had created many, many problems for which he did ask questions, but he didn’t have one now. 

Bambam leaned his cheek on his hand. His eyes sparkled mischievously like he somehow knew he made Yugyeom kind of really nervous. “Your hand was raised.”

Yugyeom felt his cheeks heat up. “Oh.”

Bambam hummed, then looked over at Yugyeom’s laptop, craning his neck awkwardly. “How’s it going?”

Bambam told the group to write about what they’d be doing during the weekend, but Yugyeom’s page was left very much blank. He turned the laptop so Bambam could see better. “Does this answer your question?” 

“It does,” Bambam said with a small laugh before looking back at Yugyeom. “We can work on it together. Tell me in Korean, what are you gonna do this weekend?”

That was one of the reason’s his page was still empty, he had absolutely nothing planned. He didn’t even have any studying to do, not that he knew how to say that in English, but it would have at least been something. 

He scratched his eyebrow. “I don’t have any plans.”

“Okay,” said Bambam, “then let’s create plans.”

Yugyeom almost choked on his own spit. 

Was Bambam offering to fill his weekend with plans or was he looking to far into his words?

“Like, you could pretend you’ll go see a movie or something,” Bambam suggested, looking sideways at Yugyeom. 

In the mindset of Bambam suggesting they spend time together, the dancer definitely liked the idea despite not being the biggest cinema-enjoyer. 

Bambam could invite him to go eat bricks and Yugyeom would agree.

“Do you know how to say that?”

Yugyeom shook his head. 

So then Bambam began explaining which tense to use, which words fit the sentence well and even typed it out for Yugyeom to read along. 

Yugyeom hated to admit he had not been listening one bit. All he could think about was how to turn this into actually asking Bambam out. 

He had absolutely no idea if Bambam was even interested in guys, or _him_ for that matter, but if he wasn’t then Yugyeom would still enjoy his company as a friend.

He turned his eyes to the screen and read what he assumed was something along the lines of “I’m going to the cinemas this weekend”. 

Obviously, he wanted to impress Bambam. Now, he understood perfectly well he was never gonna impress Bambam with his English skills, but he could try.

So, with the tiniest voice he said, “ _Us_?” 

Bambam whipped his head around, then tilted his head. “Huh?”

Yugyeom swallowed and grinned awkwardly. “ _Us … go … movies?_ ” He cringed at his own inability to produce a normal English sentence. 

That mischievous glint was back in Bambam’s eyes. “You want to go see a movie together?” he asked in English, a smirk on his lips. 

Yugyeom nodded. “ _Yes … together_.”

Bambam hummed, then stood up. Yugyeom followed his movements with his eyes but almost fell off his chair once more when Bambam inched closer towards his ear. “If you can ask me that in a correct English sentence, I’ll think about it.”

Yugyeom may or may not be internally somersaulting and cartwheeling in glee. 

He stood a chance!

Yugyeom was about to reach for his phone, but Bambam beat him to it and pocketed the device. He held up a disapproving finger. “Without the help of the internet, Yugyeom-ah.”

All glee left his body instantly. This was one hell of a set-up.

Bambam must have known Yugyeom definitely wasn’t going to ask Mark to translate the sentence for him, as that would be quite embarrassing and he was already kind of intimidated by the older. 

Bambam gave him one last look before helping someone on the opposite end of the table, but Yugyeom swore he winked at him.

✰

“Hyung!” Yugyeom exclaimed as Jinyoung opened the door to his apartment.

Jinyoung squinted at him.  
“I need your help,” Yugyeom said innocently, putting on his best smile. 

“If you came to beg for food again I swear I’ll—”

“I didn’t,” Yugyeom said, walking past the other and into the apartment. In order to please his hyung a little, he said, “Is that a new painting?”

“No,” Jinyoung said as he closed the door behind him and followed Yugyeom inside. 

“Is Jaebeom-hyung here?”

Jinyoung sighed. “This is a studio apartment. If he was here, you would have seen him.”

“Jeez, just asking,” Yugyeom said, his hands raised in defense. “Who spat in your coffee this morning?”

Jinyoung must have realised he was kind of being unnecessarily unfriendly and rubbed his face. “Sorry, bad morning indeed. What did you come for, Yugyeom-ah?”

“How do I say ‘Do you want to go see a movie with me?’ in English?” Yugyeom asked, throwing himself on Jinyoung’s couch also bed. 

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at him. “Did your phone break?”

“No.”

“Did the uni campus wifi suddenly stop working?”

“No.”

Jinyoung looked even more confused now. “Then why don’t you just look it up?”

Yugyeom groaned, taking one of the pillows and putting it in his lap. “I want to ask Bambam out and—”

Jinyoung suddenly barked out a laugh. “ _Bambam_?” 

Yugyeom did not like that tone. “Yes. Bambam. What’s wrong with Bambam?”

Jinyoung shook one of his hands in disagreement while the other covered his mouth to hide his laughter. “Nothing, nothing.”

“I met him some weeks ago,” Yugyeom said, putting his chin on the pillow. 

Jinyoung sat down on the bed as well.

Yugyeom handed him a pillow and the older mimicked the way Yugyeom was sitting. It reminded Yugyeom of being little. Jinyoung had known Yugyeom ever since he was born, and even though he was three years older, they got along okay. 

Yugyeom saw Jinyoung as a grumpy older brother, because just like an older brother, you have no choice in who your younger brother is gonna be and Jinyoung would have definitely not picked Yugyeom. 

“So you like him?” asked Jinyoung.

“Yeah,” Yugyeom admitted easily. “I’ve wanted to ask him out since we met but chickened out each time. I’ve even joined his English tutoring sessions to see him.”

This earned him another laughing fit. “You sure are desperate,” Jinyoung said in between laughter. 

“Hyung,” Yugyeom whined, shaking his body like a little kid. “You know damn well I could use those sessions anyway.”

“Sure, but I bet you’re not paying _one_ ounce of attention.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Yugyeom whined again. “All those years you were pining for Jaebeom-hyung I didn’t say a word and now you treat me like this.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jinyoung said but the grin on his face told Yugyeom he definitely was not sorry. “What was that about cinemas or something?”

Yugyeom sighed. “I want to ask Bambam out to see a movie with me but he’s making me do it in English and he told me not to look it up on the internet. Little does he know that if I did look it up I probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.”

Jinyoung hummed. “So he’s making you work for it.”

“And I want to put in the work,” Yugyeom said quickly. “I really like him, hyung.”

Jinyoung gave Yugyeom arm a playful shove.

Yugyeom pulled a face. “What was that for?”

Jinyoung grinned. “It’s cute. He talks about you a lot, now that I think about it.”

The dancer’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Say what now?”

Jinyoung sat back, looking sideways at Yugyeom. “I take it you’re familiar with the Foreigners Club and that I’m in it?”

Yugyeom nodded.

“We talk pretty often,” Jinyoung said. “He knows that we know each other, so sometimes he asks how you’re doing or when we go do something as a group, he asks if you had been there, if you’d liked it or if you’d been good at it. Stuff like that.”

Yugyeom’s heart swelled and he felt himself smiling to himself. “So you think he might like me back?”

Jinyoung nodded.

“Then please, please teach me how to ask him out in English,” Yugyeom pleaded, leaning forward to take a hold of Jinyoung’s arms.

“Calm down,” Jinyoung said, prying Yugyeom off of him. “I don’t think you want to go to the cinemas with him, though.”

Yugyeom tilted his head. “Why not?”

“His attention span is minuscule, he’ll definitely go looking for trouble,” Jinyoung replied, then looked Yugyeom up and down. “You know what, he sure is a perfect match for you. He seems to like a lot of things you like, so I’d ask him out to do something you enjoy doing.”

The dancer hummed as he thought of something he liked. “Do you think he’d want to just order my food and hang out in my room?”

“You know he has an apartment to himself right?”

Yugyeom made a disapproving noise. “Can’t believe you forgot about my cat allergy, hyung,” Yugyeom said, putting his hands over his heart like he’d been hurt. 

Jinyoung rolled his eyes before getting off the bed. Yugyeom watched as he walked towards the kitchen, opened a cabinet and took something out. He only realised what it was until he’d caught it, as Jinyoung found it necessary to throw it to him. 

“Allergy pills,” he read. He looked back up at Jinyoung.

“Jaebeom-hyung has five cats,” Jinyoung said irritably. “ _Five_. Can’t sleep over at his apartment without these pills. You can take a few if you want.”

“Oh, thanks,” Yugyeom said gratefully, taking out about five and putting them in his pocket. “I do think it’s best to provide _him_ with a place to have the date as I’m the one asking him out, no?”

Jinyoung grimaced. “Don’t think your roommate will appreciate being sexiled.”

“Sexil—what the hell!” Yugyeom screeched. “We’re not gonna have sex on the first date, you caveman!”

Jinyoung held his hands up in defense. “Bambam’s wild, Yugyeom-ah. I can’t read the guy.”

“Well, I definitely don’t plan on doing any of that on the first date,” Yugyeom said, cheeks burning up. “Besides, he hasn’t even agreed to go out.”

Jinyoung waved him off. “He will.”

Yugyeom sat up. “Not if I don’t learn how to ask him.” He pumped his fist into the air. “ _Lez get it_.”

✰

“Myungho!” Yugyeom exclaimed excitedly when the boy entered their room. “How were your classes?”

Myungho raised an eyebrow. “It was fine, worked on my art piece for a while,” he said as he toed off his shoes. “Why are you so chipper?”

Yugyeom flashed him his best smile. “I have a favor to ask you.”

His roommate, not even knowing what the favor was, pulled a pained expression. “That can’t be good.”

“Wha—Hey!” Yugyeom put his hands on his hips. “What are you basing that on?”

Myungho’s face deadpanned. “Last time you asked me for a favor you nearly set my bed on fire.”

Yugyeom hissed at the memory. Definitely not one of his finest moments. 

“No fire this time,” Yugyeom assured as he watched Myungho unpack his bag. “I’ll even turn off the heater if that makes you feel better!”

“You’ll freeze to death.”

“A win for you!” Yugyeom pointed out, flashing Myungho a thumbs up.

Myungho laughed at that, shaking his head at Yugyeom’s ridiculousness. 

“I don’t even know when or _if_ it’ll happen but,” Yugyeom started, looking away from his roommate, “if I asked you to stay with Jun-hyung for a night—”

“You are _not_ having sex in here,” Myungho said immediately.

“No!” Yugyeom yelled. “Jesus. Why is everyone’s head in the gutter? It’s just to hang out and order some food. I don’t want to disturb you and I don’t want me and Bambam to get distu—”

“Oooh,” said Myungho, interested all of a sudden. “ _Bambam_. You’re bringing him here for a date?” He then scanned Yugyeom’s side of the room and pulled a face. “You’d better clean up then.”

“He’s already seen what it looks like!” Yugyeom said in defense. “But yes, if I’d hypothetically invite Bambam over for a date, would you leave?”

After two seconds or so, Myungho nodded. “I will.” He pointed at the mess. “But _only_ if you promise to clean up.”

The dancer beamed.

Yugyeom shot him finger guns, “You got it!”

✰

_Do you want to go on a date with me?_

_Yes? Awesome! Want to order pizza and chill in my room?_

These were the two sentences he’d been repeating to himself every single day until Friday rolled around for his weekly English tutoring session. He felt incredibly confident, 100% sure he was gonna nail it. 

Myungho was close to killing him because he kept saying them out loud over and over again, but Myungho wanting to kill him was nothing new.

But his heart absolutely shattered when he looked inside the classroom.

Everyone was present but Bambam.

And everyone was also very much staring at him as he’d been standing in the doorway for quite a bit, scanning the room for any hint of the Thai boy.

“Yugyeom-ah,” said Mark, sitting on the Big Teacher chair. Then in English, he said, “Are you gonna come in?” 

Yugyeom swallowed, then scratched his eyebrow. He hated this English-talk-only rule. “Uh— _where_ —uh— _where is Bambam?_ ”

The dancer hoped the silver-haired boy was at the bathroom or at the very least a bit late; later than Yugyeom already was. 

Mark pursed his lips. “Bam-ah’s sick,” he said, thankfully in Korean. Something tugged at his heart at the idea of Bambam having fallen ill. “It’s just me today.”

Oh. Well that sure ruined his plans. 

Still standing in the entryway, Yugyeom considered his options. Though he realised these English sessions definitely improved his skills, it wasn’t gonna be any fun without Bambam. He’d probably spend the whole hour sulking anyway.

Awkwardly, he beckoned Mark to come to him. He didn’t need the entire class to hear what he was about to ask. But Mark, being the sadist he was, stayed put. 

He flashed Yugyeom a grin. “Come here,” he said in English. 

“ _No_.” Yugyeom hesitated as he thought of the words. “ _Here … please._ ”

The prospect of Yugyeom saying that in English must have been enough for Mark to listen to the younger. He pushed his chair back, got off and walked towards the door where Yugyeom was still standing. 

“What is Bambam’s address?” Yugyeom asked once he’d dragged Mark into the hall. He wasn’t gonna have any of those other students overhear his desperate measures to ask Bambam out.

“Wha—I told you he’s sick.”

“Yes. I’ll go make him better,” Yugyeom said firmly. 

“With what? Your dick?” 

Yugyeom instantly started spluttering. “What the hell is wrong with you people!?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “No! With, I don’t know, soup or something! He lives with four cats and _they_ can’t make soup.”

“Oh, they can’t?” Mark said teasingly, tilting his head.

“They can’t, but I can.” Big lie. The only thing he knew how to make was ramen. “Will you please give me his address?”

Mark seemed to ponder the idea, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll give it to you. _But_ ,” Mark said, “don’t bring him soup. He doesn’t like soup.”

“Got it. No soup,” Yugyeom said with a nod. The dancer then plucked his phone from his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Mark. “You can just type it in the Notes app or something.”

Mark scrolled around for a while, unfamiliar with Yugyeom’s app pattern, until he finally found the app and let out a small chuckle. 

Yugyeom craned his neck to see what was so funny. 

“You’re cute, Yugyeom-ah,” Mark said, smile on his face. Then, in what was probably supposed to be an imitation of Yugyeom’s voice, he read the sentences Yugyeom memorised.

It definitely didn’t help that Yugyeom named that folder How To Ask Bambam Out In English. 

“Hyung,” he whined. “Don’t read that.”

“Bambam’s definitely gonna say yes, by the way,” he said as he gave Yugyeom back his phone. “He talks about you all the time. ‘Isn’t Yugyeom cute when he speaks English? The shirt Yugyeom wore today was really nice, wasn’t it? I hope Yugyeom won’t see a hairdresser for a while ‘cause I like his hair like this, don’t you?’ and so on.”

Yugyeom’s face got more red with each sentence Mark revealed. He reached for the back of his neck, he’d been inspired by Myungho to grow somewhat of a mullet. 

Mark then frowned. “You’re gonna skip the session, aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” Yugyeom said without hesitation. “No offense.”

Mark raised his hands. “None taken. Go get your man.”

As soon as Yugyeom left the building, he opened his recent chat with Youngjae. If anyone should know anything about how to cure sickness it should be the embodiment of the sun. 

**To: 333cyj333**

_Hyung, what do you bring someone who’s sick?_

**From: 333cyj333**

_Soup_

**To: 333cyj333**

_Let me rephrase. What do you bring someone who’s sick that doesn’t like soup?_

**From: 333cyj333**

_Health? ㅋㅋㅋ_

Yugyeom sighed. Nevermind, Youngjae was absolutely useless.

The dancer had no idea how to cook, so it wasn’t like he somehow magically could now that Bambam was sick. Maybe he should buy some juice? Like, orange juice or something. That had vitamins after all. 

So, at the cafeteria, he bought a bottle of orange juice for Bambam and an iced choco for himself and checked his Notes app for Bambam’s address. 

The boy hadn’t lied when he said he lived quite far from campus, but Yugyeom didn’t mind the trip. He hadn’t been to that part of town for quite a bit anyway. 

Once in the bus, he didn’t sit down, too giddy to see Bambam. He wondered how he’d gotten sick. With the way the weather had dropped significantly these past few days, Yugyeom wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten a cold. 

After fifteen minutes of standing despite multiple seats being vacant, he opted to just sit down. He may be a dancer, but he wasn’t superhuman. His legs got tired, too. 

Once his butt hit the seat, he opened the folder he’d spend hours staring at. It became a bit more real every minute that passed. The trip towards the English session had been one of pure anxiety as he’d been fearing Bambam’s rejection like it would end his life. 

Maybe it would, who knew?

But hearing both Jinyoung and Mark say Bambam talked about him often definitely spiked his confidence at times. He wondered if he talked about Bambam a lot. Myungho would probably know if he asked. 

Finding Bambam’s apartment once he got off the bus was oddly difficult, but he probably had his lack of direction and inability to read signs to thank for that.

He wanted his visit to be a surprise, and because of the intercom at the entrance, his surprise would be ruined. So, to solve that problem, he pressed a random number and waited patiently for the person to pick up.

He heard a beep then.

“Good day,” Yugyeom said in his sweet-talk voice. “Sorry to bother you, but my name is Kim Yugyeom and I want to visit my friend who lives in this building. You see, he’s sick right now so I want to surprise him by visiting him and making him feel better! Could you perhaps open the door for me so it’ll remain a surprise? I’d really appreciate it.”

A bead of silence followed.

“Yugyeom, this is Bambam.”

Yugyeom’s eyebrows skyrocketed. He squinted at the number he pressed and slapped a hand on his forehead when it was indeed the button to Bambam’s intercom. God damn it.

“Can you see me right now?” Yugyeom asked, looking around for any cameras.

“Yep.” He sounded scratchy.

When he finally found the camera, he jutted out his bottom lip. “Can you see my pout?”

“The camera’s not _that_ good,” Bambam said with a laugh.

“Well, just know I’m pouting.”

“There’s no need to pout.”

“Yes, there is, the surprise is ruined.”

“Not really, I was definitely surprised when I saw it was you.” 

“But I didn’t see your reaction.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised when you come up.”

And Yugyeom’s heart nearly exploded at the sight of a blanket-wrapped Bambam with four little cats sitting at his feet. He definitely looked worse for wear, but still managed to look absolutely stunning. His hair was still in a bun, probably the most convenient way to style it, but he’d foregone the glasses and contacts.

Yugyeom preferred his natural eye-color anyway. 

Bambam put his hand over his mouth then. “Yugyeom!? Woah. I had no idea you were coming.” He then warily eyed the plastic bag Yugyeom held. “What’s that?”

“Mark said you didn’t like soup so I brought orange juice,” Yugyeom said as he raised the bag. 

Bambam nodded, impressed. “Good call.” He then looked from the bag back to Yugyeom. “I’m really gross right now, though.”

“I don’t mind!” Yugyeom said immediately. He cleared his throat after realising that might have come off too strong. “I definitely don’t mind. I mean, you’ve seen my side of the room. Gross doesn’t even cover it. I’m fine with gross.”

Bambam snorted, pulling the blankets closer to him. Yugyeom tried his hardest not to coo. “Do you—uh—want to come in?”

Yugyeom didn’t want anything else. “Yeah, it’s kinda cold out here. Only if you’re fine with it, though.” 

Bambam flashed him a soft smile. “Definitely, come in.” 

He watched as Bambam shuffled into his apartment with his four cats in tow. Yugyeom had to admit they were cute, even if the hairless one kind of scared him. His apartment was really nice. It was a studio like Jinyoung’s, but a bit bigger. 

Bambam’s was also definitely cleaner. 

The Thai boy shuffled towards the couch. The blanket dragged on the floor behind him and that should definitely be gross, especially with all the cat hair that must live on there, but Yugyeom found it stupidly endearing.

Yugyeom felt the weight of the bag in his hand. “Do you want some of the orange juice?”

Bambam hummed, pushing himself further into the blanket.

Yugyeom scanned the kitchen. “Where can I find some cups?”

“Cabinet above the fridge,” Bambam said.

During his quest to find said cups, he asked, “What got you sick, you think?”

“The bubonic plague.”

Yugyeom barked out a laugh and cocked his head. “I doubt that.”

“I never lie,” Bambam said firmly. “The Black Death has truly come for me.”

Yugyeom smiled triumphantly to himself once he found the cups and poured juice for both himself and the plague-sufferer. He was glad his dorm room didn’t have a kitchen, just a cheap microwave he and Myungho shared the cost for, because his kitchen would not have looked as clean as Bambam’s did.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Yugyeom watched as the blanket fort that was Bambam shook. He took that as a no. Not that he could have made any. If Bambam had wanted anything, Yugyeom would have probably had to answer with ‘That’s great, go make it yourself’. 

On his way back to couch, he passed a bunch of pictures with people he didn’t recognise, probably family members, and he smiled fondly at the ones that featured young Bambam. 

As soon as he sat down on Bambam’s couch, a single hand peeked out from the blankets to hold the juice and Yugyeom noticed his fingernails were painted black. He handed Bambam the cup and watched as the boy took a big gulp like he’d been starved from any sort of liquid for days.

“Are you dehydrated?” asked Yugyeom worriedly. 

Bambam didn’t answer, just reached forward to place the now empty cup on the coffee table. “Not sure if that’s a symptom of the plague, but I sure was thirsty.”

Yugyeom playfully rolled his eyes. “I was never great at history, but the plague you definitely do not have. It’s probably a cold, no?”

Bambam curled further into his blanket, head almost disappearing. He looked a little like a Russian lady like this. 

“Would you like some more juice?”

“Nah,” Bambam replied. “That was just enough. Thanks, Gyeom-ah, you didn’t need to do that.”

Yugyeom hadn’t noticed the army of cats that had found itself around him, staring at the dancer with apprehensive eyes. Did they know? Could they smell his affection for Bambam on him? They sure didn’t look pleased, if anything. 

“They’re—uh—cute,” Yugyeom croaked out, reaching forward to pet one. It scurried away immediately. Guess not then. 

“My sons,” Bambam said in English, looking fondly at his pets. The one Yugyeom had tried to pet found his way onto Bambam’s lap, lying down and looking up at the dancer with narrowed eyes. 

“What’re they’re names?” 

“This is King,” Bambam said as he looked down at the one in his lap. Yugyeom had to admit that that one was definitely the cutest of the bunch. He had absolutely no knowledge of cat breeds, but if he had to explain the pet to anyone else he would say it was small, grey and soft looking. 

“What about them?” Yugyeom asked, pointing at the two white ones.

“Pudding and Cupcake,” Bambam answered, grinning at the cats who perked up at their names being called. “And that is Latte,” he continued. Yugyeom obviously didn’t need to guess which one that was. “Latte, come here.” 

At his name being called, the naked cat jumped on the couch, climbed up the back and settled on Bambam’s blanket-covered shoulder. 

Yugyeom took a sip of the juice, then remembered he didn’t even like orange juice and tried his best not to pull a face. “You speak Korean to them?” 

“Yeah,” Bambam said with a laugh as Latte started sniffing at his face. “I feared if I spoke to them in Thai or English they wouldn’t understand the vet when I take them to get checked.”

Yugyeom didn’t think he could grow fonder of Bambam, but here he was proving the dancer wrong. It was probably best Yugyeom kept his distance, as he wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting sick, but it was hard not to engulf Bambam in a hug. He looked so stinking cute like this. 

“That’s adorable,” Yugyeom admitted out loud, fondness dripping from his words.

“What about you? You said your brother has a dog, right? Do you have a picture?”

Oh, _did_ he have a picture. His brother was absolutely obsessed with taking as many pictures of the duo that almost Yugyeom’s entire Instagram page was just him and Dalkyum. 

Yugyeom opened the app, clicked on his profile and handed his phone to Bambam. “His name is Dalkyum.”

The older stuck his hand out to take it, clicking on each picture and studying it diligently. 

A grin adorned his face. “He looks like you.”

Yugyeom cocked his head. “Is that a good thing?”

“Of course,” Bambam said, eyes still on the pictures. “He’s cute.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widened and he felt heat rise to his face. “Are you saying I’m cute?”

Bambam looked sideways at Yugyeom, giving him a look that read _duh!_. He then clicked on a new photo and let out a laugh. “He blends in with your hair here.”

He showed Yugyeom the screen. The picture featured a sleeping Yugyeom with a happy-looking Dalkyum sitting on his head. The black of Dalkyum’s fur did indeed blend into Yugyeom’s own black hair.

“Wait,” said Bambam suddenly, eyes wide as he zoomed in on the pic. “You have a tattoo?”

“Oh.” Yugyeom might have forgotten he was also very much shirtless in that pic. “Eh—yeah. I have quite a few, actually.”

“Awesome, man,” Bambam said in English as he handed Yugyeom back his phone. “Me, too.”

That sent a sense of relief down his spine. Tattoos were still frowned upon in Korea so finding people who also saw the enjoyment in them was great. 

He wondered where on Bambam’s body they were placed when he suddenly let out a loud sneeze.

Bambam’s eyes widened and shuffled further away. “You’ve contracted it! Oh, what do we do!? The Black Death has reached you!”

Yugyeom rubbed at his nose. He hardly got sick, his immune system was quite good and he hadn’t sat all that close to Bambam. 

And then it dawned on him. 

_The cats_.

How could he have possibly forgotten about his cat allergy in an apartment with four of them? 

He thought about the pills Jinyoung had so kindly gifted him, but was then reminded of their death. Those were very much gone. 

“No, it’s—” he awkwardly pointed at the cat at his foot. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Bambam said sadly. “I forgot about that.”

“Me, too,” Yugyeom admitted. “Jinyoung-hyung gave me some pills but I lost them.”

Bambam snorted. “How do you lose pills?”

Yugyeom grimaced. “I—uh—accidentally left them in my pocket and washed the jeans.”

The sound of laughter filled the room and Yugyeom watched as Bambam reached up to cover his mouth. Yugyeom didn’t understand why he would do that. He was absolutely stunning when he laughed.

“I really like your laugh,” Yugyeom blurted out. He did not mean to say that out loud.

Bambam instantly stopped laughing, looking at Yugyeom with wide eyes. “You like my laugh?”

Yugyeom felt like a child caught playing on their DS way past their bedtime. 

“Eh—I mean I—uh—you know.” He swallowed hard. That was a stupid answer. He did not spend days trying to memorise how to ask Bambam out to suddenly chicken out at the thought of Bambam knowing he enjoyed the sound of his laughter. 

“Yes. I like your laugh,” he said then, and it felt good to say. Feeling even bolder all of a sudden, he added, “Actually, I like it a whole lot.”

Bambam had looked kind of pale before, but his face regained its color now; his cheeks pinkish. “Really?”

“I like a lot of things about you,” Yugyeom said, feeling his own cheeks heat up, too. He scratched at his eyebrow. “I—eh—I memorised some English lines because you told me to ask you in—”

“Wait. You memorised them?” Bambam asked, surprised. “You really practiced just for me?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I really like you,” Yugyeom said with a sheepish chuckle. He was ready. He was gonna recite them now, impress Bambam and then plan the date together. 

But as he went to search for the sentences at the back of his mind, he found absolutely nothing. What in the actual hell? 

Bambam cooed. “Did you forget them? I couldn’t see your pout through the camera but I can definitely see it now.”

Yugyeom let out a frustrated whine. “This is so annoying! I swear I practiced them really hard! Mark-hyung even saw them and laughed at me.”

Bambam smiled then. “Can I see them?” 

“Yeah,” Yugyeom said, unlocking his phone, opening the Notes app and handing the phone to the other. 

Bambam’s smile grew fonder as he kept reading. “I thought you wanted to ask me to the movies?”

Yugyeom shook his head. “I don’t like going to the cinemas much and Jinyoung told me you don’t either. I thought it would be nicer to just—uh—hang out in my room and order food?”

Bambam locked the phone, then grinned at the dancer. “Even if you _had_ asked me to the movies, I would have still said yes.” Bambam then laughed. “Actually, you could invite me to go eat bricks and I would agree.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widened at Bambam’s words, as he had once told himself the exact same thing.

And it was in that moment, as they laughed together, that he finally understood what Myungho had meant when he said Bambam was his kind of weird.

He was perfect for Yugyeom.

✰


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ʕ ·ᴥ·ʔ hello! ʕ·ᴥ· ʔ
> 
> chapter 2! established yugbam in this one hehe.

✰

“Uno,” Yugyeom smirks, pressing his final card against his chest for protection.

There’s a blue 5 on the top of the discard pile, he’s got a blue 9, and he desperately hopes Bambam won’t change the color. They’re sitting on Yugyeom’s bed, facing each other with their legs crossed and the pile of cards between them. 

Yugyeom isn’t really great at games, but Bambam is much worse as the older tends to blurt out random things that typically ruin his chances of winning. Yugyeom remembers a particular game of Mafia where Bambam, who was very much a citizen, said that saying he’s a citizen doesn’t mean he actually is one. 

Yugyeom has so far been able to guess which cards Bambam held between his fingers solely by his reaction when Yugyeom changed color. And don’t get Yugyeom started on Bambam’s reaction of fury when the younger throws ‘Draw Two’ cards into the mix.

Bambam purses his lips, looking thoughtfully at the four cards he has left, and with each second that passes Yugyeom almost bounces in his spot. He can already smell his victory. 

But then Bambam, over the top of his cards, asks, “What color do you have?”

Yugyeom rears back, a frown forming on his face. “I’m—What?” He draws the card closer to his chest. “The fuck? I’m not gonna tell you that!”

Bambam grins. “It’s blue, isn’t it?”

Yugyeom tries his best to repress a surprised gasp, so instead he squints at his boyfriend. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very,” Yugyeom says firmly with a nod of his head. “Definitely not blue.”

Bambam shrugs, then sing-songs, “If you say so.” 

Yugyeom thought his strategy would lead Bambam to choose a blue card, but instead, Bambam places a green 5 on top of the blue 5. 

“No!” Yugyeom exclaims, falling backward on the bed like he lost all sense of life. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” Bambam asks, a smirk on his lips. “I thought you said you had no blue.”

He sits back up instantly, and the smirk on Bambam’s face he definitely does not like. “I don’t.”

Bambam hums questionably. “I don’t know, Gyeom-ah. I think I might be onto something.”

“Yes, onto the path of losing,” Yugyeom replies, but sulks as he draws a card from the pile. It’s a red 7, and he knows, from Bambam’s previous annoyance at having to draw a card every time Yugyeom played a red one, that Bambam is red-card-less. 

Bambam has two cards left when he places a green 7 on top of his green 5.

Yugyeom lets out a celebratory noise as he drops his red 7 on top of it and screeches, “Uno!” He throws a fist in the air next, then clutches his blue 9 to his chest once more.

But then Bambam has that mischievous glint in his eyes Yugyeom has grown all too familiar with and watches in agony as Bambam delicately places a red 3 on the pile.

“What!?” Yugyeom exclaims, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “Where did you get that?”

Bambam gasps, then points an accusing finger towards the draw pile. “Where do you think? You had me draw a million cards five minutes ago!”

Oh. Right. 

Bambam had been grinning as he nonchalantly threw a green Draw 2 towards the pile, then looked at Yugyeom as he said, “Go ahead. Don’t be shy, draw some cards.”

Yugyeom chuckled cockily as he plucked a blue Draw 2 from his personal stack and dropped it on Bambam’s. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “ _You_ draw some cards.”

“Ha!” Bambam repeated, and Yugyeom grimaced as he watched another one of Bambam’s Draw 2 cards cover his own. “I don’t think so.”

Yugyeom then looked down at the cards into his hands and cringed. 

He bit the inside of his cheek as he said. “You know I really like you, right?”

Bambam raised a brow. “…Yes?”

Yugyeom pursed his lips, then moved his fingers to the card he wanted to use. “You sure?”

He shot his boyfriend a questioning look. “Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere. Just making sure,” Yugyeom said casually as he took the card from between his fingers and placed the Draw 4 card on top of the discard pile. 

Bambam let out a gasp of horror, then slammed his cards on the bed face down before pointing a finger at Yugyeom. “This is a declaration of _war_.” Yugyeom barked out a laugh, but Bambam shook his head slowly. “This is a hate crime. You hate me.”

“Nuh-uh,” Yugyeom said, shaking his index finger. “I admitted to liking you very much not one minute ago.”

“Well, _clearly_ a lot can change in one minute,” Bambam grumbled. 

“Don’t be shy,” Yugyeom said, repeating what Bambam had said. He pointed at the draw pile. “Draw some cards.”

Bambam flashed him his middle finger, but then seemed to come up with an idea that involved batting his eyelashes at Yugyeom. “Will you accept a kiss instead?”

“I will always accept a kiss,” Yugyeom said smugly as he watched Bambam light up. “But not as a replacement of ten cards.”

Bambam reached behind him and Yugyeom only realized what he was doing when the pillow had already hit him in the face and fell into his lap. 

Yugyeom blinked at his boyfriend. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” Bambam said firmly. “If you wanted to break up, you could have just said so,” he added as he leaned forward to grab the new cards. 

Yugyeom snorted. “I definitely do not want to break up.”

Bambam held up the cards. “Then I assume I can put these back.”

Yugyeom let out a laugh, shaking his head at Bambam’s ridiculousness. “I can reduce it to nine if you give me that kiss you offered.”

“Five,” Bambam negotiated instantly.

“Eight.”

“Seven.”

Yugyeom considered it, then shrugged. “Deal.”

Bambam grinned, then leaned across the bed, careful not to move around too much to make the card piles fall over, and placed a hand on Yugyeom’s neck before connecting their lips. 

Kissing Bambam had easily become Yugyeom’s favorite thing, curling his hands in the silver strands of hair as he slowly opened his mouth.

It was warm, as it always was, and he made a move to push Yugyeom down on the bed, but the younger disconnected their lips with a grin. “You are not getting out of drawing those cards, Bam-ah.”

So Bambam ended up drawing seven cards.

Yugyeom now stares at his blue 5. Both he and Bambam have one card left, but because he doesn’t have a red card, he reaches for the draw pile. As he turns the card and notices the color, he all but smashes it onto Bambam’s red 3. “Uno!”

Bambam sighs, then peels a new card from the draw pile.

“What’s with the sigh?” Yugyeom asks with a raised brow. 

Bambam groans. “I’m so over this game.”

“Because I’m winning?”

“No, because I just want to kiss you for a while,” Bambam replies matter-of-factly. He checks his watch. “I’ll need to go soon and we haven’t made out.”

Yugyeom grins. “A crime.”

Bambam nods seriously. “Of the highest rank.”

“But I’m so close to winning,” Yugyeom says, not relenting. 

Bambam gives him a look. “I think the fact you have _me_ is already a win.”

“That’s true,” Yugyeom agrees. “But does it compare to an Uno win?”

Bambam blanches. “I may very well hope so!” 

The dancer taps his chin. “I’ll have to think about that.”

Bambam lets out a scoff, then throws his cards behind him. “Come here you little—” 

He reaches over the pile of cards, effectively messing them up, and winds his hands around Yugyeom’s neck. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but eventually, Bambam is firmly seating in Yugyeom’s lap, legs around his waist. 

Because he isn’t able to kiss Bambam in public as often as he would like to, as they live in Korea after all, it makes kissing him so passionately like this feel magical. Despite the prejudice, Yugyeom tries his hardest to touch his boyfriend when he seeks his warmth. 

It often leads to the younger shoving their entwined hands in the pockets of his oversized clothing items.

Currently, Bambam’s hands run through black hair as their mouths move together. It’s gentle and soft, which it usually is when they’re in Yugyeom’s room. The chances of Myungho suddenly barging in are far too high to do anything more than simply make-out, so they leave everything beyond that for Bambam’s apartment. 

Speaking of the older, he slightly changes the angle and Yugyeom sighs contently into his mouth, dipping his fingers below his boyfriend’s t-shirt and letting his fingers wander on his hipbones. 

Even though it isn’t leading to anything more, Yugyeom enjoys it so intensely. Anything he does with Bambam feels good, whether it’s a quick greeting in passing or messing up the sheets of his bed. 

But what he very much doesn’t enjoy is the alarm Bambam always sets to remind him to leave. Though Yugyeom’s grown a little fonder of the four animals living in Bambam’s apartment, he will still curse them for being the reason for Bambam’s departure. 

“They need to eat, too, Gyeom-ah,” Bambam always says. 

Bambam’s lips leave his slowly, like he’s savoring the last few seconds of their kiss, then gently places his forehead on Yugyeom’s. “I gotta leave.” 

Yugyeom groans, relishing in the last few seconds of Bambam’s warmth.

Bambam presses one last, firm kiss on Yugyeom’s lips before reaching behind him to turn the alarm off. He checks his notifications for a second, then locks his phone again and places it down on the bed. 

The younger hums as Bambam moves back into Yugyeom’s chest, cuddling him. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Bambam rests his cheek on the side of Yugyeom’s head. “Gonna eat meat with Jackson-hyung.”

Yugyeom instantly perks up at that. “Can I come?”

Bambam grins. “Knew you’d ask that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Bambam lifts his head and looks straight at him, hands now cupping the younger’s cheeks. “If I allow you to come, then Jinyoung-hyung will want to come, too. He’ll want to bring Jaebeom-hyung. And then Mark-hyung will also feel left out. Besides, you’ve been wanting to hang out with Youngjae-hyung this week, right?”

Yugyeom sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Bambam smirks. “Of course I am.” He pats Yugyeom’s shoulder. “Now, I really need to leave. Myungho texted me saying he’ll come back soon.”

All warmth leaves his body as Bambam slowly detangles himself from it and gets off the bed. “Wha—Why would he text _you_ that? _I’m_ his roommate.”

Bambam laughs, picking up his belongings from the floor. “You barely check your phone, babe.” He’s right, of course. There have been way too many instances of Myungho walking into their room to Yugyeom’s surprise when the Chinese boy had definitely texted him beforehand. 

Yugyeom groans. “Bet he’ll take Jun-hyung here.”

Tying his shoelaces, Bambam says, “Well, it’s his boyfriend after all.”

“Yeah, but I don’t take _you_ here when Myungho is home.”

“That’s because you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” Bambam says with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them do so much as hug when I’m with them.”

The younger sighs defeatedly, but gets off the bed to put his own shoes on. “Let me walk you to the bus stop.”

Bambam smiles happily, then leans over to plant another kiss on Yugyeom’s lips. “Thanks, babe.”

✰

He finds himself in Jinyoung’s apartment the next day, standing in the kitchen with a glass of grape juice in his hand.

Jinyoung glances at him with a look of annoyance. “Have you come just to drink my juice or what?”

Yugyeom shrugs. “I wanted some company.” He lifts his hand to take a sip. “And your juice is good.”

The younger turns his head towards the door as it suddenly opens. He watches as Im Jaebeom steps in and instantly drops his backpack on the floor. “Babe?” he calls out.

“Yes?” Yugyeom answers smugly.

Jinyoung smacks him on the back of the head as he passes the dancer. “He means _me_ , dickhead.” He walks over to his boyfriend and allows himself to be pulled into a hug and receive a kiss on the forehead. 

“Hi, Yugyeom-ah,” Jaebeom says once his lips are unoccupied. 

Yugyeom offers a small wave. 

“Yah, greet him properly,” Jinyoung says, an arm around Jaebeom’s waist. 

Yugyeom gives Jinyoung a look, then flashes Jaebeom a large, fake smile. “Hi, hyung! Can’t believe I get to see your face again!”

Jinyoung looks close to murderous, but Jaebeom pulls him closer. Then the older makes an attempt to whisper “I thought we’d be alone tonight” to Jinyoung, but instead just says it loud enough for Yugyeom to hear.

Yugyeom gasps. “I heard that!”

“He meant for you to hear,” Jinyoung replies, then sighs as he looks at Yugyeom. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to entertain you?” 

Yugyeom slumps against the kitchen counter. “He’s eating meat with Jackson-hyung.”

Jinyoung’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets and he detangles himself from Jaebeom’s body in shock. “He’s what!?”

Yugyeom nods his head quickly. “I know right!”

Jaebeom rolls his eyes, pulling Jinyoung closer to him again. “Babe, what does it matter?”

Jinyoung detaches himself from his boyfriend once more, then walks closer to Yugyeom. “Where are they?”

Yugyeom looks up at the ceiling as he tries to recall the name, then realizes Bambam hadn’t mentioned it. 

Jinyoung curses in annoyance. “He always avoids eating meat with me, saying he doesn’t have enough money, but he eats meat with Bambam!?” 

Yugyeom nods again, hoping his plan of getting Jinyoung to take him out is working. “I hear you, hyung. I asked if I could join and Bam said no.” 

“Do you think they’re going Dutch?” Jinyoung theorizes. 

“Bambam’s definitely not going if he has to pay,” Yugyeom supplies. “He purposely leaves his wallet at home.”

Jinyoung huffs. “That little—I’m gonna kill Jackson.”

Jaebeom’s arms curls around Jinyoung’s waist from behind. “Calm down. The three of us can go together right now if you want.”

Jinyoung shakes his head, then looks sideways at Jaebeom. “No. It’s about the principle. And you already paid last time, hyung.”

Yugyeom gasps. “Why was I not invited?”

Jinyoung shoots Yugyeom a look. “It was a date.”

“So? My parents have taken me on their dates loads of times,” Yugyeom reasons.

“Do we look like your parents to you?” Jinyoung deadpans. 

“… Honestly?”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, but Jaebeom grins. He places his chin on Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Well then, as the father, I’ll take you both out to barbecue.”

Yugyeom’s eyes sparkle, but Jinyoung’s eyes widen. “‘As the fa’—we are _not_ claiming him as our child.”

Jaebeom shrugs. “He’s cute.” 

He’s known Jaebeom for years, and Yugyeom secretly thinks Jaebeom is nice to him because he knows Jackson always teases him together with Jinyoung. So, during birthday parties, it’s always Jaebeom and Yugyeom versus Jinyoung and Jackson. And though Jackson is still Jinyoung’s best friend, the Chinese boy is less glued to him now, to Jaebeom’s content. 

“He’s a menace,” Jinyoung says with a sigh, but steps out of Jaebeom’s embrace to grab his wallet. “And you’re not paying, hyung. I got my salary yesterday, I’ll pay.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll pay again next time,” Jaebeom says as he links his fingers with Jinyoung’s and walks towards the door. He then looks over at Yugyeom. “Let’s go, my son,” he says in English.

✰

“Can I wear that?”

He’s lying in Bambam’s bed, barely awake, but he watches as Bambam stands in front of his closet in just his boxers holding an over-sized black t-shirt Yugyeom likes, more so for himself than for his boyfriend. 

Bambam looks over his shoulder and grins. “Sure.”

Yugyeom hums, nuzzling into the pillow as he continues to watch Bambam pick an outfit for himself. There are splotches of purple on the boy’s chest, and Yugyeom smiles at himself at the thought of the night before. 

They both had finals last week, which meant no time for each other, so it was nice to spend time together again after not seeing each other for over a week. 

“What are you smiling about?”

“You, of course,” Yugyeom answers easily, and smiles even more stupidly as Bambam grins and walks back to the bed. 

The older leans over him, and angles his head to press his lips to Yugyeom’s. The dancer instantly wraps his arms around Bambam’s waist, trying to keep him in the bed, but Bambam slowly backs away and looks into Yugyeom’s eyes. 

He lifts a hand, stroking Yugyeom’s hair out of his face. “We can’t… You have class soon.”

“I know,” Yugyeom whispers, tilting his head to capture Bambam’s lips in a quick kiss. “Wanna skip.”

“I know,” Bambam whispers back, pressing little kisses to Yugyeom’s neck. “It’s the first week of the new semester, so you shouldn’t.”

“If you keep doing that, I definitely won’t wanna go,” Yugyeom mumbles with a chuckle.

Bambam laughs, then rolls off of Yugyeom to lie down next to him. He takes ahold of his hand, then places a kiss on his palm. “I’ll go back to campus with you. I have some homework I still need to finish.”

“Alright,” Yugyeom says, turning his head to face the other. “Do you wanna grab some breakfast on the way there?”

Bambam purses his lips as he thinks. “I think I have some rice left,” he says as he rubs his face with his hands. “But not sure how much. Need to go grocery shopping soon.”

Myungho doesn’t trust Yugyeom to do the shopping, because Yugyeom prefers Western food and only ever comes home with frozen chicken nuggets, so he transfers some money to Myungho to keep their mini-fridge full every week. 

“You can eat the rice, I’ll get something at the bus station,” Yugyeom says, pulling Bambam’s body into his side. 

“I’m not letting you eat a chocolate bar for breakfast,” Bambam says, pinching Yugyeom’s arm. “I might have some spam you can eat.”

Yugyeom hums, then yawns. “How many minutes before we need to get up?”

Bambam turns his head to check the alarm clock, then curls back into Yugyeom’s arms. “A few more minutes,” he mumbles into the skin of Yugyeom’s chest. 

Yugyeom gently rubs Bambam’s back. “Do you have any events planned for the club?”

“Not yet,” Bambam answers. “We haven’t been bowling in a while, so maybe we’ll plan that. Oh no, wait, Jackson-hyung doesn’t want to anymore.”

“Why?”

“Mark-hyung is _really_ good at it,” Bambam explains, “and that annoys Jackson-hyung.”

“Yeah, he’s a sore loser.”

“That, too,” Bambam says with a laugh, “but it means he can’t impress Mark-hyung.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widen and he looks down at the other. “He likes Mark-hyung?”

“I don’t know if he likes him romantically or anything, but he definitely wants Mark-hyung to think he’s cool or something,” Bambam says.

Yugyeom snorts. “Sounds like hyung.”

Bambam laughs, throwing one of his legs over Yugyeom’s. “But I like bowling. I’m no good at it either, but I like it. Maybe we can double date with Jaebeom-hyung and Jinyoung-hyung.”

Yugyeom shoots him a look of distaste, at which Bambam laughs loudly. 

He lifts a hand to pinch Yugyeom’s cheek. “Don’t you wanna spend some time with your parents, Yugyeom-ah?”

He really doesn’t, but it happens anyway.

Three days later, he finds himself on a bowling alley bench. Bambam and he, though unintentional, are both dressed in all black, and Yugyeom can’t help but laugh at the difference in clothing styles between the other couple. 

“Why are you dressed like that, hyung?” Yugyeom asks Jinyoung as the older couple sit down on the bench opposite of theirs. The oldest of the bunch is wearing an oversized grey hoodie on top of a large white t-shirt with baggy blue jeans.

Jinyoung looks down at his own clothes: cream-colored dress pants, a black t-shirt and a brown cardigan. “Like what?”

“Like a college professor with no life.”

“At least I don’t look like I’m gonna rob a bank after this,” Jinyoung counters, then straightens. “Have you ordered drinks already?” 

“We didn’t know what you’d want,” Bambam answers as he gets up. 

Jinyoung looks over at his boyfriend. “Coke?” Jaebeom nods. Jinyoung turns back to Bambam. “Two cokes.”

Yugyeom gently holds onto Bambam’s wrist to get his attention. “Can you get me a Sprite?” 

“Of course,” Bambam answers before he walks over to the bar. 

“Are these all the balls we get? I’m gonna get some blue balls,” Jaebeom says as he pushes himself off the bench. 

“As long as you don’t _actually_ get blue balls, hyung,” Yugyeom says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Jaebeom grins smugly. “I never do.”

“You might now that you’ve pulled that face,” Jinyoung challenges when Jaebeom walks away to get the new balls. 

Jinyoung turns to Yugyeom then. “By the way, I invited Jackson and Mark-hyung, too.”

Yugyeom widens his eyes. “ _What?_ Bam told me Jackson-hyung is annoying when he bowls, so we invited only you on purpose.”

Jinyoung smirks. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Hyung,” Yugyeom whines. “Why did you invite them?”

“Because Jackson likes Mark-hyung and he’s being annoying about it to me—”

Yugyeom gasps. “You said he’s annoying, too!”

“Yeah, but he’s my friend and he’s your hyung,” Jinyoung replied quickly. “Anyway, I’m hoping this will get them together.”

“But if Mark-hyung doesn’t like Jackson-hyung back, he’ll feel compelled to because everyone else is a couple,” Yugyeom reasons as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’ll invite Youngjae-hyung to come to tone down the couple-y atmosphere.”

And that’s how all seven of them end up in the hospital because Jackson dropped a bowling ball on his own foot, but at least he got a kiss from Mark.

✰

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might make a chapter three one day who knows lol. let me know if you'd like to see it / what you'd like to see!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
> 
> btw this is what bambam looks like with a bun: https://twitter.com/97bl0ss0m/status/1306171935642980352?s=21


End file.
